Common People
by Moose Juice
Summary: Sirius Black is yet another spoilt rich kid at Saint Martin's College. Remus Lupin is the school's Annual Scholarship boy just looking to fit in. Sirius immediately takes a shine to him - but does he just want to sleep with common people? AU. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Common People

AN: So I had ANOTHER idea for a fan fiction and started writing it, it's a terrible habit of mine. However, I DEFINITELY won't be taking this any further until I've finished writing 'The Meaning of Family' and possibly 'I Pickpocket Him When He's Annoying' (and all my exams of course). Obviously, please read and feel free to review as your comments and feedback are very much appreciated. Hope you enjoy.

[DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter books, films or related materials, nor do I own the lyrics to Pulp's 'Common People'.]

'Saint Martin's College' I have sort of made up. I stole the name from the 'Common People' lyrics, but for the purposes of this fiction, the Saint Martin's College Sirius, James, Remus, etc. attend is completely ficticious. Rated 'M' for eventual slash and immediate bad language.

ONE

'POTTER!'

James Potter turned at the cry of his name and sighed. Every year. As if he didn't see enough of the boy already, every year, every _fucking_ year, he would call his name like a war-cry just as James was hauling his suitcases up the stairs of the Saint Martin's College entrance hall - the term hadn't properly begun without their annual ritual, signalling the beginning of the year's traditional 'Evans' tug-of-war between the two boys.

'What do you want, Black?' James drawled, trying to suppress a grin and failing. Although he'd seen Sirius not a week ago to discuss what kind of background this year's Annual Scholarship boy would come from, it still felt like ages since they'd caught up. Sirius returned the grin as he strode over to James and dumped his (rather large) bag on him.

'Oi!' James protested. 'I don't want your bloody handbag, you take it!'

'It's not a handbag, it's a MANbag,' Sirius corrected him, rolling his eyes at his best friend's pitiful lack of knowledge regarding fashion.

'Whatever,' James muttered, dragging one of his suitcases behind him and signalling to Pettigrew, the family chauffer, to bring the other two. Sirius ducked as James made a half-hearted swing at him with the bag, his own family's chauffer Kreacher carrying his suitcases.

'Where's Regulus?' James asked as they made their way to the dormitories, noticing for the first time that Sirius' younger brother wasn't skulking behind as he usually did at the start of every term. Sirius looked surprised, and checked behind him. Upon seeing no Regulus, he shrugged his shoulders; the fact that his brother was nowhere in their sight at the present moment did not seem to concern him. Anybody else might be surprised at this reaction, but James knew very well of the animosity between the two brothers. While, at school, Sirius was fawned over and adored and Regulus ignored by pretty much everyone but his menial group of 'friends', within the Black family, it was a completely different story. Regulus was the golden boy and Sirius was the oddball who refused to accept that being a Black, and therefore one of the richest families in Britain, practically made you royalty. It didn't help family relations that his parents had never and would never approve of his friends, nor that Sirius seemed quite content to snub every single one of his relatives altogether.

'Anyway,' Sirius said, hastily changing the subject, for he liked to talk of and interact with his family as little as possible, 'I've forgotten; did we decide on drunken, abusive father and mousy mother or poor-but-pushy plebian parentage?'

James laughed at Sirius' descriptions of the two potential family backgrounds they'd shortlisted while anticipating this year's Saint Martin's Annual Scholarship boy. 'Well, originally I'd've thought the former, but it's always that one. My wager this year was pushy plebians. We had a bet, remember?'

'I remember the bet,' Sirius assured him. 'I just couldn't remember which side I'd backed.'

James threw his head back and laughed again. 'Let's hope you never take up betting for the horse races, eh, Sirius? As if you can't even remember what you bet on! I won't be taking you to Monaco - you can, ah, _bet_ on that...'

Sirius flashed him a perfectly sarcastic Black family smirk before they reached the seventh year common room and he opened the door. Sirius strode straight over to the staircase and entered the seventh year boys' dormitory, immediately choosing the bed next to the window and indicating that Kreacher should put his things beside it. The knarled old man nodded and hobbled over, depositing the suitcases at the end of Sirius' chosen bed. Pettigrew did the same with James' things at the end of the next bed.

'So, what do you think he'll be like?' Sirius drawled, flopping down on the bed he'd claimed. James assumed they were still talking about the Annual Scholarship Boy.

'Hmmmm,' he murmured, leaning back and plumping up his pillows as he considered. 'Well, if I'm, going with the pushy parents stance, I'd say either too arrogant for his social-stroke-economic status or he's a tortoise.'

'A tortoise,' Sirius repeated, raising his eyebrows slightly.

'Yes.'

'People don't give scholarships to tortoises anymore James, not since the greenhouse incident last summer. There have been protests from animal rights groups. They're not allowed to give tortoises scholarships any longer.'

'Yes but some people _resemble_ tortoises.'

'What? What do you mean? Features or mannerisms?'

'Both. Either.'

'Well, how are they supposed to tell the difference? People would get confused. There would be countless protests again; the school would lose its reputation and my mother would pull me out. And then I wouldn't see you ever again. Think how that would pain me,' Sirius said with a grin.

'And I. Who would keep me warm at night?' James replied, grinning back. The two boys often spoke offhandedly of their casual romance, if one could call it a romance. It was more a sort of unspoken arrangement in which, what with being trapped in an all-boys school for most of the year, they sometimes felt the need for some affection and some sort of sexual release, and often ending up spending the night together in mostly less than innocent situations. It didn't _mean_ anything - the fact that Sirius was openly flamboyant and quite clearly gay didn't bother James at all; in fact, it pleased him rather a lot to know that Sirius wasn't _really_ interested in Lily Evans at all, meaning that he would eventually win the friendly 'battle' between the two of them to see who would get her. This ongoing mock feud had begun in their fifth year when Evans had started waitressing part-time at the local cafe in the village. She was three years older than Sirius and James, and it was a safe bet to say that most of the boys in the school were after her; she was incredibly pretty, with dark red hair that fell to her shoulders and startlingly green eyes. In fact, Evans was probably the main reason for the intense rivalry and dislike between James and Severus Snape, a boy in their year, with greasy dark hair, cold black eyes and no real friends. Snape (or 'Snivellus', as Sirius and James along with the rest of their year tended to call him) often sat with a bunch of Regulus' friends at dinner or in class, but most of the time he could be spotted alone, something which James never failed to take notice of and use as an opportunity to bully him. No - not bully, Sirius didn't like that word, it sounded as though they were doing something malignant and cruel; they were merely giving him the... _attention_ he deserved...

'What I mean,' James clarified, 'is that he's either going to be an obnoxious prat like Snivellus or he's going to be all shy and withdrawn.' He said the last three words with a knowing smile at Sirius; 'shy and withdrawn' boys were exactly his type. They somehow fascinated him, inexplicably. He couldn't explain why - perhaps it was the experience of talking to someone who wasn't half as in love with himself as James, who seemed to think he was God's gift to the rest of the human population, just because he was the captain of the school's football team.

'Well, let's hope he _doesn't_ turn out like Snivelly. Can you imagine?' Sirius replied, ignoring James' look. 'As if they let HIM in on a scholarship last year. He's not even that clever.'

'I suppose they just let any old dimwit in on a scholarship these days,' James answered.

'As long as they're not a tortoise.'

'Obviously. Anyone _except_ tortoises.'

'I feel sorry for the poor bastards. Surely we shouldn't discriminate against them. I mean, where's a tortoise to go these days if he wants to get a good education?'

'Rich parents, of course,' James said languidly, yawning as the bell rang for dinner. 'Come on, let's go. I'm starving.'

* * *

><p>'Well, well, well, if it isn't the Golden Duo, back for another term.'<p>

'What do you want, Snivelly?' James said angrily. Snape gave a sardonic smile.

'Nothing from YOU, Potter, trust me. I wouldn't regard anything of yours as worthy,' he sneered.

'Oh yeah?' Sirius said, silently daring Snape to lunge, to start a fight so that he'd have some excuse to punch the greasy bastard. 'Well, _we_ wouldn't take anything from _you_. Wouldn't want to drown in grease, now would we?'

'I swear, if you give me a reason, I will -'

'What are you gonna do, Snivellus?' Sirius asked mockingly. 'Gonna run and tell Evans on us, are you?'

Snape flushed angrily; his normally palid face turned an ugly, blotchy beetroot. Sirius smirked and grabbed James' arm, firmly leading him past the idiot and into the Dining Hall. He could feel James resisiting but kept his grip firmly on his best friend's arm. A brawl was all very well if Snivellus _started_ it, but if James was found to be the aggressor he might as well kiss his sorry arse goodbye, along with his football captain's badge.

'He's not worth it,' Sirius muttered, as he always did when James showed signs of wanting to punch something, that something usually being said unworthy arsehole. Not that Sirius wasn't tempted to land a few punches himself. But a five-minute fight that would more than likely end in a bloody nose and several weeks' detentions wasn't worth the aggrivation he'd get from his parents for getting himself thrown out of Saint Martin's, not to mention being banned from seeing James ever again, nor the satisfaction he'd give Snivellus at his expulsion. No, better to let the git ooze in his own slime for the rest of his life. After all, they'd be out of here in almost a year, and off gallivanting all round the world for a year before going to Oxford or Cambridge to laze about and occasionally enter a boat race or two. Sirius wasn't designed for work; effort wasn't his thing, he much preferred procrastinating to the point of doing anything to avoid writing essays. Anyway, he was the cleverest student in the school; far too clever to actually _need_ to do any work in order to pass his exams with flying colours. James was exactly the same. They spent most of their schooldays plotting practical jokes to play on Snivellus, sneaking out of the school after hours, or stealing food from the kitchen by charming the naive and giggly kitchen maids that worked down there. Sirius even had a knack for making the forty-one year old cook blush. He was naturally flirtatious and charming, and most people fell in love with him at first sight.

Unfortuantely, Remus Lupin was not one of those people.

* * *

><p>He had expected to be intimidated when he arrived, even pitied for his shabby clothes and his second-hand uniform and his untidy hair and his scholarship entrance, but this was one thing he had not been prepared for. He had not been expecting to be stood up in front of the whole school on the raised platform where the Staff Table was; to be introduced by the well-meaning but blundering headmaster as 'our newest scholarship pupil' and receive a hostile silence in return; to be unashamedly stared at as he walked to the nearest table and sat down, as far away from the other occupants of the table as he could possibly be without falling off the end of the bench. He hadn't expected to be inadvertantly and publicly humiliated like that.<p>

Of course, Remus was used to humility. He was naturally shy and withdrawn, he had learned at an early age that most people had more money than he and his family, and he hadn't actually expected to get a scholarship to go to a real fee-paying school, most of the pupils of which came from several-cars, holiday-villas-in-Greece-AND-Italy-AND-Spain families, but this was one step too far. It was almost as if he were being punished for being poor, for having the nerve to walk into the Dining Hall of Saint Martin's College and sit among the rich kids in patched, faded, second-hand clothing and attempt to be one of them.

He hadn't even wanted this in the first place.

It wasn't like he'd _asked_. It wasn't as if he'd ever expressed any sort of twisted desire to go to a school where most of the other boys' fathers earned ten times the salary his father did, where he would never fit in. It wasn't like he hadn't been pushed into this by parents who thought he 'deserved' a better future in a private school, instead of in the free, tolerant state school he'd always been perfectly happy in.

When his meal arrived, he hunched over his plate and brooded over these things, not even concentrating on what he was eating, refusing to look at any of the other boys whom he _knew_ were staring completely obviously and shamelessly at him, probably discussing the new poor kid with their snobbish friends. They were all snobs anyway, Remus decided, glaring at his plate and wishing he could disappear and reappear back home, at his old school. When the Christmas holidays came around, some serious negotiation was going to go on.

Like everybody else in the Dining Hall, Sirius and James were staring curiously at the new Annual Scholarship boy. He was decidedly thin and pale, with light brown hair, that swept gracefully across his forehead, and a troubled expression.

Sirius fell for him instantly.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Woah, look! I've finally updated! Sorry for the century-long wait, guys, this fic is a bitch to write. Apologies for any typos or errors I've missed :)

TWO

Remus trudged up to the seventh year boys' dorms, too depressed and tired to want to do anything but sleep, and shuffled over to his bed - only to find that someone else's luggage had been placed at the end of it.

'Oh,' he said.

He was sure he'd put _his_ suitcase down at the end of the bed, but all he could see were huge, burgundy trunks, about three or four of them. Slightly confused, he scanned the cluster of dark red for his own shabby brown one, and spotted it, sitting forlornly next to one of the maroon ones. It _was_ rather inconspicuous, he supposed - perhaps the other boy hadn't spotted it amongst his own huge suitcases, and so had put them down without a second thought. Remus miserably picked up his case and moved off towards the bed at the other end of the room, right next to the door. It was the only bed which hadn't been claimed already.

He tried not to feel hard done by as he snapped open the clasps on his case and rummaged around inside it for his pyjamas, mournfully wishing he could have had the the first bed. He liked to sit by the window and just stare out into the night, but now he couldn't, because some snobby rich kid with huge burgundy suitcases had stolen it from him. He didn't want to argue; he was really too tired to get into a fight, especially a fight about a bed, for goodness' sake. He wasn't _that_ stupid.

He undressed and pulled on his pyjamas - depressingly aware that they would inevitably turn out to be far smaller and shabbier than everyone else's pyjamas, as he hadn't had a new pair since he was about twelve - and rummaged around in his case for his book, before sliding into bed and opening it at the page he'd marked by folding down a corner. "The Picture of Dorian Gray." Hmm. He could certainly compare some of the boys in here to Dorian - beautiful, naive, cruel and utterly unaware of the feelings of anyone but themselves. They'd end up living Dorian's lifestyle too - lavish, luxurious possessions; a butler; trips to the theatre every single night. In short, all the things that Remus himself could not have. He despised them for it.

No, wait. Perhaps he was judging too harshly. Maybe _he_ was being the cruel and prejudiced one. After all, it wasn't like he'd even spoken to any of them yet - not that he had any desire to. He'd gone straight up to bed after dinner (an excruciating episode in which he had sat in the Dining Hall for an hour being stared at by every other boy in the school and was not approached nor spoken to by any of them) without a word, and, instead of staying in the common room for a while like the others, he'd marched straight up to the dormitories and got into bed. He sighed, and put down his book. As much as he wanted desperately to escape right now, he couldn't concentrate on the story, and found himself reading whole pages of text without taking in a word. He half-buried himself under the covers and glared at the ceiling.

_Why_ did this have to happen? Why couldn't he have just stayed at his old school, where he'd been perfectly happy, even if his grades hadn't been all that brilliant? Why did Romulus have to come in and meddle with everything, and persuade his parents to send him here for one pointless, torturous final year of school before university? _Why?_ Remus sometimes found it hard to love his brother, which made him feel awful. It wasn't as if he _chose_ to find Romulus insufferable after all, but simply because his millionaire tycoon of a brother shined brighter than the stars in the eyes of their parents, why on earth did that mean that Remus should never amount to anything, as Romulus had suggested he would if he'd stayed in his old school? Remus was torn between working harder than he'd ever done before and passing all his exams with flying colours, so that he could say, 'Look! Here I am, look what I've achieved! And you said I'd never have the ability!' and deliberately failing every single one of them just to prove his parents wrong.

The only person he could really talk to was Rhea, and even then they disagreed on some things, Romulus being one. Remus had never understood why Rhea had married his brother two years ago, but Rhea had stuck by Romulus and hated having to argue with Remus about him. It wasn't so much that he couldn't see that she loved him, but that he couldn't see _why_ she loved him. She was only twenty-four, three years younger than Romulus and a much freer spirit than him, whereas Romulus was old for his years anyway, staid, formal and often patronizing, especially with his brother. Remus couldn't see why _anybody_ could fall in love with such a man. True, he was handsome enough, and Remus regularly found himself wishing for Romulus' good looks: tall and striking, with a straight nose, dark, shiny hair, deep blue eyes and a lithe, almost fluid way of moving, whereas Remus was thin, pale and small; his hair was tawny and soft but it never caught the light the way Romulus' did. He walked awkwardly, as though he were trying to conceal himself or simply trying not to be noticed, not to stand out from the crowd. He'd always felt like an oddball, an outsider, and he never felt more alone than in the centre of a crowd. He felt he must stick out like a sore thumb - even so, he'd always tried his best to hide.

He supposed he had Romulus to thank for _one_ thing - if not for Romulus, he would never have had Rhea to talk to. Rhea was the closest thing he had to a real friend, the closest thing he had ever had to a friend. Content as he'd been in his old school, he'd never really had someone to be close to; had never really had someone to share his secrets with. Books were his only friends, and they were, in his opinion, the best. They told you tales of far off lands, of unreal possibilities, of people you could only dream of meeting. They wove you fantasies, intricate worlds fabricated entirely of lies and fictional creations, they gave you a place to escape to when the world became too much. And when you shut them up, they stayed shut up.

People on the other hand, they were far more complicated. They expected too much and they wanted to know everything - they never _told_ you anything. And when you had nothing in common with them (as Remus often found) there were long, awkward silences until other people came along and tried to talk to you. Yes, people were far too complicated. Remus had always found that he preferred books.

'...can't _believe_ you're going to leave me for a whole week!'

Remus groaned inwardly. _People_. The last thing he needed was more _people_ trying to talk to him, judging him and finding him wanting as they invariably did. He considered switching off the lamp and feigning sleep before they got to the dormitory, but found himself curious as to who was leaving whom and for what reason.

'It's only for a _week_,' another voice protested. Each voice was accompanied by a set of footsteps. 'And it's the Tournament. We've _got_ to beat Beauxbatons this year!'

'But I'm gonna miss youuuuu,' the first, slightly petulant voice whined. 'I can't go a week without you, Jamie!'

'Don't call me Jamie, you know I hate that!' the second voice complained, exasparated. Remus got the impression that 'Jamie' was a nickname that cropped up quite regularly. There was a laugh - presumably the first boy - which was cut off by a yelp.

'Don't mess up my hair, James, please! I'm sorry I called you Jamie! I'm sorry - STOP IT!'

Both boys burst out laughing and appeared in the doorway of the dormitory. When they saw Remus, however, the taller one smiled broadly and strode over to introduce himself, totally regardless of the fact that Remus was in his pyjamas, in bed, and might have been planning on going to sleep at that very moment.

'I'm Sirius,' he said, holding out his hand. 'Sirius Black.' Remus wondered whether he was supposed to be impressed by this, although he felt some sort of vague recognition as he looked at the other boy, as though he'd seen him before somewhere. He was quite tall, though probably not much taller than Remus, and his shiny black hair was neatly gelled back, with a parting so neat it could have been made with a ruler. His grey eyes shined a little _too_ brightly, and Remus felt a little insecure, as though he were being laughed at. He knew he shouldn't let himself be intimidated by this boy - after all, _he_ had probably only got in through coming from a family with stupidly extortionate amounts of money, whereas Remus had passed the entrance exam well enough to get in on a scholarship - but he couldn't help feeling wistful of his ridiculous good looks and his tanned, smooth, almost iridescent skin, his shiny eyes framed with dark lashes, his high cheekbones and strong jaw. His companion was just as bad - unlike Sirius Black, he wasn't traditionally handsome, the first boy you'd pick out in a crowd, but his dark hair was rumpled almost elegantly, and the sly half-grin on his face showed off a full set of very white teeth. Remus, for the second time in less than a night, wished he were handsome. He wished he could walk into a room with even half the confidence of the boys here and take away the breath of all the occupants. He wished he had airs and graces and friends and good looks. Surely money wasn't _everything_, so why on earth should all these boys have the confidence he didn't?

Sirius Black was staring at him, his hand still extended. Remus, realising that he was being rather rude, shook it hastily before dropping his own hand back on to the cover of his bed.

'I'm James Potter,' the shorter, bespectacled boy said, but he made no attempt to go over and shake hands with Remus. Remus smiled awkwardly and replied, 'Remus Lupin.'

'Yeah, we know,' Sirius Black said, grinning lazily. 'So, you're new, right?'

'Right,' Remus confirmed. He sighed. 'New.'

'Well, you're lucky you've run into us then, aren't you? We'll help you fit in,' Black said, evidently expecting Remus to throw himself at Black's feet and grovel or something like that. When he didn't, Black frowned slightly, and continued, 'Right. Well first things first, don't hang around with Severus Snape.'

'Who?' Remus replied warily. He'd learned not to trust someone until he knew what their grudges, debts and agendas were, and was not at all inclined to trust these two snobby rich kids who clearly thought themselves above the rest. He made a mental note not to take _anything_ they said as gospel.

'Severus Snape.' Black's mouth turned down at the corners as he said the name, which made Remus wonder what axe Black had to grind with this other boy. 'He's in our year. Greasy black hair - well, just about everything he touches gets smothered in grease - hook-nosed, likes making snide remarks. Stay away from him, all right? He's no good to anyone.'

'And why should I trust _you_?' Remus couldn't help himself from retorting. Black flinched visibly, wounded, and Potter frowned. Evidently he had hurt Black, who was clearly used to people worshipping the ground he walked on (Remus had been able to tell that from the moment he had swanned into the room). Perhaps he wasn't used to someone thinking for themselves rather than just swallowing everything he told them. Maybe that was what it was.

Black regarded him coolly for a moment. 'Because Severus Snape hates everyone. He hates everyone, especially me and James, and he'll do anything to get to us because we're popular and he's a worthless arsehole. You'll do well to remember that.' He turned away gracefully, pausing halfway towards the bed that had, for a few hours, been Remus's. 'Good night, Remus Lupin.' Potter made his way to his own bed. Remus spared them both a distrustful glance before drawing his curtains around his bed and picking up his book, trying to ignore the unintelligible, murmured conversation in the dormitory.

He sat there for who knew how long, staring at the pages of his book without focusing on the words, and thinking. Had he been rude? _Too_ rude? He knew Romulus was holding out hope that he'd find his place at Saint Martin's, and he knew that he wasn't doing a very good job as far as fitting in went, but the way the privileged boys walked around the place, as if they owned it and everybody else was simply a servant made him angry. He hated them all, and he especially hated Black and Potter. He wasn't sure exactly _why_ he hated them, but he knew it had _something_ to do with Black's arrogant air, Potter's obviously deep love for himself, and the fact that either one of their homes was no doubt about four times the size of Remus's. He refused to admit that jealousy came into it somewhere. It wasn't jealousy. It couldn't be - he was surely a better person than any of them, wasn't he? He hadn't been molly-coddled and smothered in money all his life, had he? He wasn't a spoilt rich kid.

After a while he heard someone else come up to the dormitory, but made no attempt to find out who it was. Only hours later, when he could be sure that none of the others was still awake, did he turn off his lamp, burrow under the covers, stuff his fist in his mouth and cry.


	3. Chapter 3

THREE

Remus got up at around three a.m. to use the boys' bathroom on the dormitory floor, but when he tried the door he found it locked, though no light was visible in the gap beneath the door and the bathroom tiles. What was more, he could hear strange, muffled noises coming from inside; he pressed his ear to the door and leaned in to listen – a decision he regretted almost immediately.

'Mmpf – oh god, oh fuck –'

'You're so tight –'

Remus leaped away from the door, appalled at the thought of having apparently overheard two people from his own dormitory fornicating wildly in the middle of the night, in a shared bathroom, no less. A bathroom he highly doubted he'd be able to use in future.

He knew he ought to go straight back to bed in order to give himself a slightly better chance of passing the whole episode off as a bad dream in the morning, but curiosity overcame him, and, once back in the dormitory, he scanned the room to try and identify the midnight bangers (as he referred to them) by their empty beds. It didn't take him long – Severus Snape, the boy of whom Potter and Black had talked in such scathing tones, was curled up in the bed next to Remus'. The only other occupants of this particular dormitory, aside from himself, were James Potter and Sirius Black.

Their beds were empty.

Potter and Black.

Oh god, he'd just heard Potter and Black having wild, animalistic sex in the bathroom. Potter and Black, the pampered princes!

There was no _way _he was using that bathroom now.

_Calm down, idiot_, he told himself. _It's normal, people do it all the time. Just be thankful they're not flaunting their romance all over the place and stop freaking out._

He turned, making to creep back into bed, and collided with his bedpost, banging his head and causing him to see stars for a few seconds. Fortunately, the Snape boy seemed to be a heavy sleeper, hardly stirring at the dull _whack!_ but after a few seconds he realised that the noise in the bathroom had stopped. Then –

'What was that?'

'I don't care, just move!'

'I thought I heard –'

'Oh, for god's sake, James, shut up and fuck me.'

He'd have a kidney problem by Halloween.

* * *

><p>Remus was too embarrassed to even look at either of them the following morning, and though Black made several attempts to make eye contact (and, during lunch, even tried to talk to Remus), he frantically brushed these approaches off. Naturally, Black seemed extremely offended, and by sixth period appeared to have given up on his attempts to make friends.<p>

The only other person to approach him was Severus Snape, the sallow-skinned heavy sleeper from Remus's dormitory. In the last lesson of the day, Chemistry, they ended up working together on their experiment; to his relief, Snape proved to be something of a genius when it came to Chemistry, and Remus was therefore required to do little work, preferring to fetch whatever items they needed and watch Snape carefully measuring specific quantities of hydrochloric acid and weighing out powdered magnesium.

'So, I saw you talking to Sirius Black at lunch,' Snape said casually, adding a few drops of acid to their test tube. He looked up. 'You can call me Severus, by the way.'

'I'm Remus,' Remus replied, declining to mention that Black was the one who had initiated the conversation, and that Remus himself hadn't actually been doing very much talking. Any talking, in fact.

'Yes, I know,' Severus said wryly, trying to hide a smile.

'Everyone seems to know my name,' Remus sighed, a little irritably. He'd begun to notice people staring at him in the corridors, whispering to their friends as he passed them, sometimes even yelling his name in their obnoxiously upper class accents.

Severus's smile widened. 'Well, of course they do,' he said calmly. 'You're the new Annual Scholarship Boy.'

Remus frowned. 'How come it's such a high profile thing? I mean, yeah, I might not necessarily be able to go here without a scholarship, but doesn't that just prove that I got here on brains and not money?'

'Astutely put, Mr Lupin,' Severus noted. 'But you have to understand, it's a novelty. Most of them haven't seen common people before in their lives. Except on Eastenders, perhaps.'

Remus snorted. 'I doubt the likes of Sirius Black would watch Eastenders, at least not without subtitles. But you,' he added, scrutinising Severus, 'you're not like the rest of them. Where are you from?'

'Southampton,' Severus said. 'I was last year's Annual Scholarship Boy.' He rolled his eyes. 'I know the joy that that particular position brings. It's worse than being a valet.'

Remus was tempted to ask if Severus had ever had a valet, or indeed been one, but he was distracted by Severus's next question:

'So, from whereabouts do you hail?'

'Sheffield,' Remus replied.

'You don't sound like a northerner,' Severus commented. Remus smiled and held up his hands.

'You caught me out. Damn. I'm actually from Southend-on-Sea, but we moved to Sheffield a couple of years ago. So I'm twice as common as your average scholarship student. They're in for a treat.'

'How about you try eating with your fingers at dinner?' Severus suggested. Remus was torn between laughter and despair at the thought of being stared at by all the other boys like an animal in a zoo.

'I don't think they're ready for that just yet,' he said. 'The shock might kill them.'

'Oi, Lupin!' called a voice from the other side of the classroom. Remus turned around, rolling his eyes when he saw that it came from none other than Sirius Black.

'Yes, sir?' he called back. Black smirked.

'Stay sexy, yeah?'

Remus flushed almost the same shade of burgundy as Black's suitcases. He was instantly furious with himself – Black could surely see him blushing like a twelve year old and he hated losing face in front of Severus, who might be the only person he could relate to here. He didn't even _like _Black, in any sense. He mumbled a few swearwords under his breath, internally cursing Black and his smug arrogance.

'Idiot,' he muttered to Severus, still feeling the heat radiating from his cheeks. You could probably fry an egg on his face right now, he thought. _Stupid, _stupid_ Remus._

'Listen.' Severus dropped his voice almost to a whisper, his tone suddenly conspiratorial. 'If I were you, I'd stay away from Black and his cronies. He's bad news, trust me.'

Despite his current state of please-kill-me-now embarrassment, Remus couldn't help but smile. 'You know, Black said almost exactly the same thing to me last night,' he told Severus, whose face fell; he looked scandalised.

'What did he say about me?' he demanded.

'Oh, nothing really. Just that you're extremely jealous of his popularity and you'll do anything to sabotage his reputation, that sort of thing,' Remus said casually, watching his partner carefully. Severus's expression changed; he grinned and shook his head, laughing to himself.

'That's pathetic! Black's going to have to do a hell of a lot better than that. I can't stand him, but only 'cause he's a fucking shirtlifter.'

Remus flinched at Severus's attitude and his casual use of the word; he wondered anxiously if this was the kind of opinion all the boys at Saint Martin's held of gay students. On the other hand, if Severus were telling the truth, and Black was indeed a 'shirtlifter', then the several students who seemed to follow him everywhere and beg constantly for his attention clearly didn't care, which comforted Remus somewhat, until he remembered that he was supposed to despise them for their tax-dodging parents and unnecessary piles of money.

'Are you?' Severus asked suddenly.

'Sorry?'

'Are you, you know…?' Severus pressed.

'Am I what?' Remus asked, nonplussed.

'_Gay_,' Severus whispered, almost as though it was a dirty word. Remus frowned.

'Don't you think that's kind of an impertinent question?' he said. 'In fact, I'd say it's a bit rude to ask someone you barely know what kind of people they fancy – unless you're trying to chat them up, in which case, I'm flattered, but no.'

'No!' Severus cried, shaking his head, his eyes wide. His face coloured blotchily. 'No, I'm not a bend– I mean, I'm not gay. I – I was just… wondering.'

'Does it matter?' Remus countered.

'Well,' Severus began hesitantly, as though he wasn't sure how to phrase his next sentence, 'I was wondering if – if you'd consider – Well, it's Black, right. He's pretty infamous in this school; he likes to pretend he's interested in a boy and then humiliate him in front of everyone. It, er, it happened to a friend of mine and, er, well, he wanted to get him back for it. So I wondered if you'd maybe like to help me.'

'A friend of yours?' Remus enquired.

'Well, er, yeah –'

'Right,' said Remus dubiously, wondering if Severus's friend was in fact Severus. 'So why exactly do you want my help?'

'Because I hate him,' Severus said bluntly. 'And you ought to, as well,' he added. 'Sirius Black is an arse. A _posh _arse. With too much money.'

Remus grinned. 'Alright. Supposing I agreed to help you, what exactly would I have to do?'

'Go out with him,' Severus replied promptly.

'Go _out _with him?' asked Remus.

'And then dump him. In front of the whole school,' Severus continued.

'That's a bit harsh, isn't it?'

At that moment, Black took the opportunity to call across the classroom, 'Oi, Snivellus! I hope you washed your hands before you came in – I think excess slime can alter your results.' Several boys laughed; Severus flushed again, bowing his head and glaring at his test tube.

'Admit it,' he muttered to Remus, 'he's a dick.'

Remus thought for a moment. 'Yeah, he is a bit. And he's rubbish at insults. I'll think about it.'

* * *

><p><em>Dear Rhea,<em>

_Thanks for your letter. I'm glad you're all alright. Everything's fine here, I'm settling in really well and I've got some new friends too. Lessons are OK – some of them are really difficult, especially Chemistry (but don't tell Romulus), but I've got a friend who's a bit of a whiz at science, so he's helping me with that. I like Biology well enough, but I'm finding Maths a bit of a chore, so I might drop that and take Music instead (again, not a _word _to my brother). I know Romulus thinks it's a soft option, but it's really not, and I think I'd enjoy slogging away at music theory a lot more than algebra – then again, you know how hard we had to campaign to get him to let me do English Literature, so I might have to stick with Maths__, worse luck._

_Saint Martin's is enormous – it's a really old college, built during the Renaissance period (apparently), and it's all big stone columns and huge, wide staircases, and I'm pretty sure you could get a horse and carriage through some of the corridors, though I wouldn't like to try. I've even got a four-poster bed, complete with curtains. And the view from the dormitory windows is really spectacular. There's a huge lake, and a few tiny mountains surrounding it, which make you feel a little bit like you're in the middle of nowhere – but in a good way._

_I hope everything remains fine with you all, and give all my love to everyone back home._

_Remus_

He signed the letter, hoping that Rhea wouldn't see beyond his overenthusiastic tone to the discomfort and awkwardness he felt underneath. Most of what he'd written was true – the view from the dormitories certainly _was _spectacular, and he _had _been told that Saint Martin's was built in the Renaissance – and although he'd lied about making new friends, he reflected that Severus Snape was an easy enough person to get along with, and they at least had the humiliation of being an Annual Scholarship Boy in common. Anyway, he told himself, it was surely his duty to make sure his parents and Rhea didn't fuss about his wellbeing, since there was no way Romulus was going to let him leave Saint Martin's. Besides, he was a Literature student – and as someone who read more books than seemed humanly possible, he ought to know that the truth wasn't inflexible.

He glanced over the letter again and sighed. It was completely transparent, and his flimsily cheerful tone fell completely flat.

'Hey.'

Remus looked up from the letter to see Severus standing in the doorway. He smiled tentatively. Perhaps he wouldn't be so alone here after all.

'What are you doing?' Severus asked, going over to his own bed to dump his bag and books.

'Just writing a letter,' Remus replied, 'to my sister-in-law.'

Severus nodded, and returned to unpacking his things.

'So I was thinking,' he said after a while, 'about how we could exercise this plan of ours.'

'Plan of _yours_,' Remus corrected him, feeling a little uncomfortable. 'And I haven't said I'll do it yet.'

Severus looked at him. 'Yeah, but you will, though, won't you?'

'I don't know,' Remus shrugged. 'It seems a bit – a bit harsh, you know?'

'For God's sake, Lupin, what does it take? Is Black gonna have to murder someone before you'll say a word against him?'

'That's not fair!' cried Remus indignantly. 'I don't exactly _like _Black, in case you hadn't noticed. I think he's an arrogant bullshitter who thinks he's God's gift to mankind. I just don't think that's enough to justify humiliating him in front of the entire school.'

'You don't think he deserves to be let down a peg or two?'

Remus glared at Severus, who was sitting nonchalantly on his bed with a small smile on his face, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at him expectantly. Remus was struck by his pose and attitude – and how similar he looked, in that moment, to Sirius Black.

'Of course I think he deserves to be let down a peg or two,' he said, calming down a little. 'Just not in the way you're suggesting.'

'Oh, come on!' Severus laughed. 'You're taking this _way _too seriously! He'll probably be back to his old self after a few weeks.'

'Then what is the point, exactly?' Remus challenged.

'The point,' Severus said quietly, without a moment's pause, 'is that for once in his life, he might just leave me alone.'

Remus looked at the floor. He stuck his hands in his pockets and scuffed his shoe on a loose board. 'I'm sorry,' he said softly after a while. 'I forgot about…' He trailed off.

'Doesn't matter.' Severus dismissed his apology with a wave of his hand. 'So will you do it?'

There was a silence.

'Just,' Remus mumbled, still staring at the floor, 'gimme some time to think, alright? I've hardly had time to think about it.'

'Think about what, Lupin? My beautiful face?'

Remus almost fell off his bed. Black was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his trademark smirk. His shiny dark hair fell in his eyes and he winked at Remus as he brushed it away with an almost unearthly gracefulness and _oh God _Remus began to wonder whether this whole pretending-to-be-Black's-boyfriend business might not be such a bad idea after all.

'You know, it's a burden being this glorious, it really is. You start to worry that you'll never find anyone ravishing enough to look good alongside you.' He paused. 'Though, you never know, Lupin. You might just be in the running.'

Remus made an involuntary noise somewhere between a squeak and a growl. _Oh fuck. _He could feel his face burning again, and suddenly broke into an extensive coughing fit.

'I – er – hm – ahem – didn't, um, see you there, Black,' he managed to choke out. Black smiled at him in the sympathetic and slightly patronising manner of an adult looking at a small child. He seemed to have forgotten to be offended at Remus's constant brushing off throughout the day.

'It is true that I am indeed extremely light on my toes, Mr Lupin,' he conceded. 'In fact, if not for my beastly mother I might well have joined the English National Ballet by now. James takes an inexplicable delight in calling me Padfoot.'

'Padfoot,' Remus repeated stupidly.

'_Enchanté_,' said Padfoot in a perfect Parisian accent. It took just about all the strength Remus had not to visibly shiver.

Then, of course, Black had to go and ruin it.

'Ah, Snivellus,' he said, glancing with contempt at Severus as he crossed the room to his bed. 'I see you're still attempting to discover the nature of that elusive creature, _friendship_. Valiant effort, I must say, but, I fear, in vain.'

'Fuck off, Black,' Severus growled. Remus looked uncomfortably from one to the other, hoping that nothing would happen, and wishing Black had left well alone. Black smirked and bent down to retrieve his blazer and phone from on top of his bed. Remus found himself accidentally admiring his arse, even in the awful grey school trousers they were forced to wear.

'I did tell you, Remus,' Black continued, ignoring Severus completely, 'that he was a manipulative little slimeball. Alas,' he added with an air of theatrical sadness, 'the trouble with having such a pretty face as I is that people are invariably too stunned by my beauty to hear a word I say.' He paused, his face frozen in a tragic expression, then winked at Remus (_again, oh God_) and sauntered gaily out of the dormitory, closing the door behind him.

After a long silence, Severus said, 'Will you at least consider it?'

It took Remus a few seconds to remember what they were talking about. He looked at his knees and nodded.

'Definitely,' he said shakily.


End file.
